


could I love you, could you love me?

by streimel



Series: Gamble the World On You (Blackjack) [5]
Category: Infinite (Band)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-14
Updated: 2014-09-14
Packaged: 2018-02-17 07:33:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,445
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2301602
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/streimel/pseuds/streimel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sungyeol learns an important lesson in patience and understanding</p>
            </blockquote>





	could I love you, could you love me?

**Author's Note:**

> tw: non-graphic hints of abuse and subsequent responses to abuse
> 
>  
> 
> I didn't proofread this b/c I'm rly lazy right now

Sungyeol knows better than to move an inch. It's okay; he's content to sit, hands flat against the muscles of his thighs, feeling them twitch underneath his palm. Boundaries are boundaries. That's okay.

Dongwoo presses a soft kiss to his forehead, hands pressed to his cheekbones, and they remain like that for a long time, until both of them are breathing in synchronized, relaxed drawls. He can feel Dongwoo's lips moving, ever so lightly, mumbling something against his skin that he can barely interpret.

"I'll see you tomorrow, 'kay? Thank you for dinner."

In a different situation, he'd wrap his arms around Dongwoo's waist, press his face into his stomach or pull his shirt collar until he was bent down enough for him to kiss. God knows how many impatient kisses he's stolen in the past, not from Dongwoo, but many others along the way, and his fingers curl into his shorts, wanting hands waiting for the moment.

Later. There will be much time for that, later.

* * *

The first time he went over the line, it'd had been early and slight enough to teach him a lesson without leaving a mark. He had worked so hard to put himself in Dongwoo's line of vision after they started working together, so hard to get Dongwoo to notice him, even for a second, dropping into his office with stupid questions and pointless comments, that he could barely contain himself when Dongwoo had finally asked him if he wanted to get drinks on the weekend.

And even then, it was intended to be in good fun. If anything, Dongwoo had started it, about six drinks in, poking him in his ticklish side again and again, and he had lashed out, meaning to grab Dongwoo's torturous arm and pull him closer to deal out some payback of his own.

It had taken a few moments, for Dongwoo to clean up the table he'd nearly overturned, for both of them to take in what just happened, before Sungyeol finally found some words, any words, anything to fill the void.

"Hey, uhm, I'm sorry, I didn't mean-"

"No, no. It's not- it wasn't...I just don't like to be touched like that. It's just-"

He wasn't an idiot. He'd seen the fear in Dongwoo's eyes, the way his mouth had formed a silent scream when he had grabbed him. Maybe it was bullying in high school. Maybe he had abusive parents. Maybe it was something else, something else he didn't want to think about, didn't want to even entertain as a thought. Regardless of what it was, touch was obviously a delicate area, and he made a mental note about that.

For next time.

* * *

If Dongwoo was surprised, perhaps thinking he'd be scared away or disgusted, Sungyeol made an effort to prove it didn't matter, to prove they could get to know each other, trust each other without worrying about touch, and Dongwoo let himself be dragged along on the journey.

He learned quick that Dongwoo was okay with touch, particularly touching, as long as he controlled the circumstances, and Sungyeol was fine to let him call the shots. He knew when Dongwoo leaned his head over on his shoulder on the bus, that meant he could wrap an arm around his shoulder. Or that if he kicked at Sungyeol in faux-annoyance, it was acceptable for him to lean over and ruffle his hair in response.

He just didn't learn exactly how kissing was supposed to go.

It didn't help that it had happened so suddenly, that he had just meant to peek over Dongwoo's shoulder while he was making kimbap, that he hadn't expected for Dongwoo to turn around to face him, that they would be chest to chest, hip to hip, toe to toe. He supposes it was a blessing in disguise, for him to tower over Dongwoo like he does, because if they  _had_ been mouth to mouth, it would have been very hard to fight off the impatient, impulsive nature that defined him, that ruled his heart, and to not have sealed his lips to Dongwoo's right in that very moment.

Instead, he looked down his nose, watching, feeling Dongwoo's chest rise and fall rapidly, hear his breath come in fast and loud, way too loud, but he didn't move back. Not yet.

"Are you afraid?"

Dongwoo's eyes had shot up, looking at him with a mix of confusion and something like awe, and Sungyeol had nearly melted when he smiled. "Afraid? Because of...this?" he had asked, picking up Sungyeol's hand to flatten against his racing heart. "No. No no no. I'm excited."

And then he had kissed him, because there was nothing else in the world to do, but to lean down, other hand pressed against the counter behind Dongwoo, and kiss him soundly, without apology, long, long kisses, delicate and rough at the same time. It had been a battle, to keep from pressing his hips in, from twisting Dongwoo's shirt in his hand and pulling him so much closer. But the racing beat of Dongwoo's heart had sufficed, had sang a song against his palm all about love and trust and desire, and it had been more than enough.

* * *

In the end, it became even more of a lesson for him, in the various mysteries of falling in love with someone, and learning how every single person in the world, no matter how similar, still wants something completely different. His slow introduction to Dongwoo's body was so different than all those times he had torn off his clothes in a blaze and jumped into someone's bed, and it's then when he learned sometimes waiting wasn't such a bad thing.

He got better at understanding, at letting Dongwoo be the one to take his hands and slide them under his shirt, to be the one to call it a night and roll off the bed. He knew his friends would laugh if they saw him, aroused and ready but okay with saying goodbye before he would have chosen. This wasn't about him, wasn't about his dick or satisfaction. It was about Dongwoo, and his comfort, and them together, working as a team to understand and grow and respect and nurture.

And when he got to explore another part, it was all so much more exciting. The sight, the very feeling of Dongwoo's bare chest against his, like two teenagers exploring someone else's body for the first time, he couldn't remember the last time he had felt that aroused, dick straining in his boxers long after Dongwoo had gotten up and left. He learned the signs, the little hints that whispered ' _go on_ ', and he ventured out, hand dashing under Dongwoo's belt to finally, finally cup that delicious ass of his that he had grown very fond of after months of distant longing.

But it was the other feelings, the feelings that knotted his stomach at night when he couldn't sleep, the awareness that he was doing okay, they were doing okay, that Dongwoo trusted him, wanted him too, that's really what he fantasized about. Maybe it was youthful ignorance, but until then he had never understood how important it was to him that someone trusted him, that he had worked for that trust, earned it and kept it, and once upon a time, he might have cursed the slow dance he and Dongwoo are in, but not now. Not anymore.

* * *

"You know, honestly, when I met you, you were so eager and impatient...I never thought of you as someone who could be so understanding."

He knows Dongwoo probably didn't mean to say that, that he's half-asleep on his chest, but he can't help but smile anyways.

"Honestly...neither did I."

* * *

Much later, when Dongwoo takes his hand and pulls him down, he realizes how little it had to do with physical pleasure anymore, and how much this meant to him, to his heart and soul, not to even begin with Dongwoo's. Sungyeol's hands are slow and easy, and he follows quietly, letting himself be pushed back, watching and watching and sensing and questioning, lightly,  _is this okay_?

Dongwoo grimaces when his hands slide up his thighs, over his hip, wrap around his cock, but it's not in discomfort. He relishes his position, that he can watch the emotions play on Dongwoo's face, overwhelmed and needy and loved, and he does what he can, making them stronger, bringing them closer.

When Dongwoo collapses on top of him, spent and sweaty, his arms come up naturally, embracing and holding, and Dongwoo settles onto his chest, little sighs of comfort as he drifts off to sleep.


End file.
